Stepping Stone
by Wyndi
Summary: Deals with the RandyShawn hallway 'bitchslap' promo from the 91503 episode of "Raw" leading up to Unforgiven.


Content: Mature subject matter, m/m slash, language, angst.  
  
Character/s: Randy Orton, Shawn Michaels, mention of Hunter.  
  
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Inspired by "Listen" by Toad the Wet Sprocket (lyrics included at end). Lyrics, quotations, etc. used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.  
  
* * *  
  
My idol, my mentor, my inspiration, my fantasy. Someone I've always wanted to be just like. I was stoked when I got transferred to the Raw roster because it meant more time around him. Just watching him, his beauty, his grace, his undeniable skill. So much potential there for us to be the perfect pair. The older, experienced man and the young upstart trying to make a name for himself. It could be so fantastic between us but for one thing.  
  
Shawn's God fixation.  
  
He used to be one of the wildest guys in the company from what I understand. I can still see something of the bad boy in him, just beneath the surface. It's just his stupid religion keeping him from being 'old HBK' again. I wish I could tell him that everyone's sick to death of his born-again crap, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. Poor guy'd probably start crying in the middle of the locker room, and I don't want to do that to him. I really do care for him. He doesn't know it yet, but I do.  
  
Well, I made up my mind. First chance I get tonight, I'm going to talk to him. See if maybe, just maybe there's a chance that there's room for both his God and my love in his heart. It's worth a shot, right? Worst thing he can say is 'no.' I've got maybe two minutes before the scene we're supposed to shoot, so I'm just going to bite the bullet and tell him.  
  
I feel about five inches tall. Could he have been any more condescending? Honestly, the way he was talking to me, I felt like a kid who got caught jerking off to a nudie mag in the bathroom. Telling me that I shouldn't be thinking lustful thoughts, that such conversation was 'inappropriate in the workplace,' that he didn't appreciate my telling him how I felt. Good lord, he really IS serious about this God thing. Now I'm not only humiliated but mortified because we still have this stupid promo to cut. At least it's not long. Just a simple little confrontation in the hallway and we're done.  
  
Where the hell did that come from?! We never said anything about him slapping me around like I was some little bitch! He was just supposed to talk to me with no physical contact of any kind. After the cameras stopped rolling, I didn't even get a damned apology. He just glared at me like I was the most disgusting creature on the planet, turned his back on me, and walked away.  
  
Working with him now is torture. Cold silence. Not even a 'hey, how are you, kid?' He hates me now that he knows how I feel. And the really ironic part is that I still feel the same about him. Well, the religion thing pisses me off a lot more now than it did a few days ago. That's to be expected, though. I just wish he'd talk to me. Listen to me. Hear me out. There's so much I have to tell him that I didn't get to say the other night. But I don't think he's going to be interested in hearing a damn thing I have to say any time soon. If I could call in some backup assistance, I would, but this is something I've got to work through on my own, I think.   
  
How in the world am I ever going to get through this blasted Pay Per View now? Now that he knows how I feel about him and I know exactly what he thinks of me. What the hell have I done? I should have just kept my mouth shut. I've heard stories about how he's known for taking out his frustrations in the ring. It's been all I can do to stay off the injured list and now I've gone and gotten him pissed off at me. I'll be doing good to get through Sunday without him aggravating my still-healing injuries.   
  
Six days. Such a small space of time between bad and worse. I want to be able to despise him, curse him, and hate him for not reciprocating. Why can't I stop craving him, wanting him, lusting after him? Maybe I AM every bit the lecherous person he accused me of being. I can't help how I feel. And I can't help how he feels, either. Something's going to have to give. Maybe I'll be able to convince him on Sunday that there's some kind of middle ground where we can meet.   
  
I'll listen to anything he has to say to me so long as he's willing to hear me out afterwards with an open mind. But I'm really afraid that this religion thing has so polluted his thinking so he won't be able to even begin to see things from my point of view. Can't he remember how things were before he got all wrapped up in this God thing? Surely his memories of the past can't be all bad. Maybe there's something I can do, inside the ring or out of it, that will remind him of what he used to be.   
  
I can't bear him thinking of me as some kind of lesser being, simply because I was blunt with him about how I feel. Honesty is supposed to be the best policy, right? But look where it's gotten me. I have been thoroughly put in my place, made to understand just where I stand. Sunday is going to be Hell. Plain and simple. And he's going to be right there with me, every step of the way.  
  
Maybe I can ask Hunter for some advice. I know I told myself I'd handle this by myself, but I really need someone's advice who's been there. He's known Shawn for a very long time. Maybe he can shed some light on how I can deal with this. Then again, maybe he'll just tell me to work it out on my own, just to watch me squirm and rack my brain trying to figure out how to get through to Shawn. Who knows?  
  
All I know is I refuse to let him make me feel like this any longer. Someone else whose dreams he thinks he can shatter, simply because he's decided that he's 'above such sinful behavior' now. Sinful indeed. I don't think I did anything wrong. Since when is appreciating such beauty a sin? All I can hope for on Sunday is the chance to show him how very wrong he is. If he wants me to step hard as he put it, then that's exactly what I'll do. 


End file.
